Everything I Need to Know, I Learned From Stevie Nicks

[Johnny Stew]

From HelloGiggles.com (I don't recall her having ever said #3 -- it doesn't even "sound" like something she'd say):

Everything I Need to Know, I Learned From Stevie Nicks
Jessica Tholmer

In a best news ever announcement, Stevie Nicks is apparently joining The Voice as an adviser to Team Levine for the show’s upcoming season.

Nicks, of course, is going to make an awesome adviser. Not only does she have an incredible background in writing music, singing music, playing music, and performing music, but she also totally understands every feeling that has ever happened to any human being ever, basically. I could not appreciate Nicks more—as a woman, as a heart-wrenched soul, as a person who likes to cry while listening to music. The Voice is lucky to have her, and so are we.

In honor of the announcement, a special edition of EINTKILF.

EINTKILF Stevie Nicks

1. “Time makes you bolder.”

Well, I can only pray that this is the truth, you guys.

The song “Landslide” means so much to me. In my senior year assembly, I led the sign language song that is performed every year. I picked “Landslide,” though I chose the Dixie Chicks’ cover because the harmonizing at the end looked really gorgeous with sign language hand motions. Regardless, these are Nicks’ words, and as I signed, “time makes you bolder / even children get older,” it took all of my being to hold it together until the song was over. I stepped off the podium and into the arms of a dear friend, bursting into a sobbing mess.

But time does make us bolder, right? We don’t even have much of a choice. With time comes experience, with experience comes knowledge, with knowledge comes power. In the end, we can all be bold.

2. “Races are run/some people win/some people always have to lose.”

. . .and I would advise you to refrain from being the kind of person who always has to lose. A mentor-type lady in my life told me once that some people will do anything to prove that they are right, even pushing their loved ones away just to prove that their loved ones will one day leave them. I know this is a depressing conversation, but it is really important to acknowledge that there are people that win—the people who hold their heads up high, and have confidence in themselves, and who love wholeheartedly. And the people who lose—they have to lose, because they have to be right. It is a silly way to live your life. Do not be that person.

3. “When you grow up as a girl, the world tells you the things that you are supposed to be: emotional, loving, beautiful, wanted. And then when you are those things, the world tells you they are inferior: illogical, weak, vain, empty.”

I have always gotten flack for admitting that I think I am pretty, and for putting time and effort into my appearance, for talking about boys and celebrities. And at the same time, I have been criticized for being disinterested, harsh, “a bitch,” bossy. I cannot be everything that everyone expects me to be. I do think I am pretty, but I take about 20 minutes to get ready for anything, work or going out or even a date. I do love with my whole heart, and I care about way too many people, but I can and, likely will, snap, or just not care about some of your problems. I do really like boys and being flirty, but that does not mean that I am incapable of wholly loving one person, and in fact, I think nothing is more important than experiencing all kinds of relationships and learning from them.

Be yourself, all of it.

4. “If you really want to save yourself a whole lot of heartache, do not fall in love with somebody in a band. Just don’t.”

I have said it before, and I will say it again, and if Nicks says it, it has to be true. But it’s cool, you know, to say you used to date a drummer or something.

5. “Players only love you when they’re playing.”

There are zero things I can add to that statement. We have all been warned.

Now I’m counting down to the new season of The Voice!

[ricohv]

I, too, kept thinking that #3 didn't sound like Stevie but felt like I had read it somewhere recently. So I did some snooping on the interwebs and it turns out, Stevie did not say that. But, I thought my snooping turned up some interesting articles that I'll share here. (Sorry if this stuff has been posted before).
Ricoh
p.s. The link at the very end of this post ("All the rest of the....") has several pages of interesting stuff, too.

from http://buckinghamnicks-ff.tumblr.com...-tells-you-the
Anonymous said: “When you grow up as a girl, the world tells you the things that you are supposed to be: emotional, loving, beautiful, wanted. And then when you are those things, the world tells you they are inferior: illogical, weak, vain, empty.” Stevie Nicks Did Stevie actually say this? Some people say she did and others say she didn't.... I have no clue where it came from....

Stevie wishes she was that good at constructing sentences without going off on tangents!

No, she didn’t. The reason people seem to be attributing it to her is because it comes from a post ABOUT her. It was part of a project called One Week / One Band where a contributor selected a musician/band to discuss and share information/videos/etc about on a tumblr. One week a contributor chose Stevie Nicks. The result is that post that everyone reblogs PART of and occasionally all of -

http://oneweekoneband.tumblr.com/pos...dragon-shes-in
STEVIE NICKS IS A QUEEN, A WITCH, A DRAGON; SHE’S IN CONTROL. STEVIE NICKS IS THERE FOR US.

I told you yesterday about this thing that happens, where men decide what’s cool, what’s smart, what’s better, and at the top of the list is them and the things they like, and at the bottom is young women, and the things young women want to talk about. And at the bottom is Stevie Nicks.

They brush her off the way women are always brushed off. Too emotional. Too dramatic. Talks too much about love, and about things that aren’t real. She doesn’t play an instrument, doesn’t really make music — **** a woman’s voice, a woman’s voice isn’t important. She’s too full of herself. Too concerned about whether she’s pretty, too willing to call herself a star. Too convinced that the men in her life love her. And her fans. They’re obsessed. They’re delusional. They’re crazy. They’re girls.

Stevie Nicks was the first woman I ever heard say she had chosen not to have children because she cared more about her career. The first I ever heard talk about it honestly — depending on the day, she might tell you she made that choice gladly, or she might tell you she still wonders what if. The first that ever warned me men might not like it if there are things more important to me than they are. The first that ever said that that was fine: sometimes, you have to leave them behind.

When you grow up as a girl, the world tells you the things that you are supposed to be: emotional, loving, beautiful, wanted. And then when you are those things, the world tells you they are inferior: illogical, weak, vain, empty. The world teaches you that the way you exist in it is disgusting — you watch boys cringe backward in your dorm room when you talk about your period, blue water pretending to be blood in a maxi pad commercial. It is little things, and it is constant. In a food court in a mall, after you go to the gynecologist for the first time, you and your friend talk about how much it hurts, and over her shoulder you watch two boys your age turn to look at you and wrinkle their noses: the reality of your life is impolite to talk about. The world says that you don’t have a right to the space you occupy, any place with men in it is not yours, you and your body exist only as far as what men want to do with it. At fifteen, you find fifteen-year-old boys you have never met somehow believe you should bend your body to their will. At almost thirty, you find fifteen-year-old boys you have never met still somehow believe you should bend your body to their will. They are children. They are children.

It isn’t just you: other girls are stared at. Other girls are groped. Other girls hear what the world is telling them.

Stevie Nicks surrounds herself with girls. Wherever she goes, she brings girls. “I can’t imagine you in a bathing suit,” someone says in an interview for Rolling Stone, when Stevie says she likes to play in the pool in her backyard. “Yeah, well, you never will,” Stevie says. “And there is never — ever — a man in the backyard. If there is, he is banished to the front of the house.” Men don’t get to look at Stevie Nicks unless Stevie Nicks wants men to look at Stevie Nicks.

In her songs, sometimes, love is actually a competition — a race that she wants to win. She is a queen, she is a witch, she is a dragon, she is in control. Even when she’s talking about how she has to change, she proclaims her power, her ability, her worth. Time cast its spell on you, but you won’t forget me. I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me. I need you because you let me breathe, well you’ve taken me away. But never take me lightly, for I could never stay. I’m not a child anymore, I’m tall enough to reach for the stars. But if I was a child, then a child was enough. She’s the vine, but she’s also the flower. She knows it.

She talks about how hard it is to get old. How hard it is to not be valued the way you were valued when you were young. How much it sucks when a photographer tells you to take your shirt off. She talks about cramps, and hot flashes, and how ****ty it is. She isn’t polite. She’s competitive. She’s bossy. She claimed all the things the men around her claimed — she spent as much money as they spent, had as much sex as they had, was as reckless as they were, stood at the front of the same stage — and never questioned that that was her right. I didn’t know until recently that she ever even thought about the fact that they might treat her like she was less. She didn’t show it.

But what I love, what I love, is she does it without ever giving in to the men that dismiss her. She’s emotional. She’s dramatic. She raises her voice as much as she can. She thinks she’s pretty, she thinks she’s a star, and when her fans crowd up to the edge of the stage, crazy, she welcomes them, with open arms. She revels in it. She revels in it. She’s too much of a girl for you? She revels in it.

I love Stevie Nicks. I love that the world tells us women are there for men, but despite all the boyfriends and the jokes about how she’s so easy and the sex-symbol status, she isn’t there for men at all. She’s there for us.


Also, the rest of the week’s posts are here:
http://oneweekoneband.tumblr.com/tag...e_nicks/chrono

[saradorna]

Originally Posted by ricohv

http://oneweekoneband.tumblr.com/pos...dragon-shes-in
STEVIE NICKS IS A QUEEN, A WITCH, A DRAGON; SHE’S IN CONTROL. STEVIE NICKS IS THERE FOR US.

I told you yesterday about this thing that happens, where men decide what’s cool, what’s smart, what’s better, and at the top of the list is them and the things they like, and at the bottom is young women, and the things young women want to talk about. And at the bottom is Stevie Nicks.

They brush her off the way women are always brushed off. Too emotional. Too dramatic. Talks too much about love, and about things that aren’t real. She doesn’t play an instrument, doesn’t really make music — **** a woman’s voice, a woman’s voice isn’t important. She’s too full of herself. Too concerned about whether she’s pretty, too willing to call herself a star. Too convinced that the men in her life love her. And her fans. They’re obsessed. They’re delusional. They’re crazy. They’re girls.

Stevie Nicks was the first woman I ever heard say she had chosen not to have children because she cared more about her career. The first I ever heard talk about it honestly — depending on the day, she might tell you she made that choice gladly, or she might tell you she still wonders what if. The first that ever warned me men might not like it if there are things more important to me than they are. The first that ever said that that was fine: sometimes, you have to leave them behind.

When you grow up as a girl, the world tells you the things that you are supposed to be: emotional, loving, beautiful, wanted. And then when you are those things, the world tells you they are inferior: illogical, weak, vain, empty. The world teaches you that the way you exist in it is disgusting — you watch boys cringe backward in your dorm room when you talk about your period, blue water pretending to be blood in a maxi pad commercial. It is little things, and it is constant. In a food court in a mall, after you go to the gynecologist for the first time, you and your friend talk about how much it hurts, and over her shoulder you watch two boys your age turn to look at you and wrinkle their noses: the reality of your life is impolite to talk about. The world says that you don’t have a right to the space you occupy, any place with men in it is not yours, you and your body exist only as far as what men want to do with it. At fifteen, you find fifteen-year-old boys you have never met somehow believe you should bend your body to their will. At almost thirty, you find fifteen-year-old boys you have never met still somehow believe you should bend your body to their will. They are children. They are children.

It isn’t just you: other girls are stared at. Other girls are groped. Other girls hear what the world is telling them.

Stevie Nicks surrounds herself with girls. Wherever she goes, she brings girls. “I can’t imagine you in a bathing suit,” someone says in an interview for Rolling Stone, when Stevie says she likes to play in the pool in her backyard. “Yeah, well, you never will,” Stevie says. “And there is never — ever — a man in the backyard. If there is, he is banished to the front of the house.” Men don’t get to look at Stevie Nicks unless Stevie Nicks wants men to look at Stevie Nicks.

In her songs, sometimes, love is actually a competition — a race that she wants to win. She is a queen, she is a witch, she is a dragon, she is in control. Even when she’s talking about how she has to change, she proclaims her power, her ability, her worth. Time cast its spell on you, but you won’t forget me. I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me. I need you because you let me breathe, well you’ve taken me away. But never take me lightly, for I could never stay. I’m not a child anymore, I’m tall enough to reach for the stars. But if I was a child, then a child was enough. She’s the vine, but she’s also the flower. She knows it.

She talks about how hard it is to get old. How hard it is to not be valued the way you were valued when you were young. How much it sucks when a photographer tells you to take your shirt off. She talks about cramps, and hot flashes, and how ****ty it is. She isn’t polite. She’s competitive. She’s bossy. She claimed all the things the men around her claimed — she spent as much money as they spent, had as much sex as they had, was as reckless as they were, stood at the front of the same stage — and never questioned that that was her right. I didn’t know until recently that she ever even thought about the fact that they might treat her like she was less. She didn’t show it.

But what I love, what I love, is she does it without ever giving in to the men that dismiss her. She’s emotional. She’s dramatic. She raises her voice as much as she can. She thinks she’s pretty, she thinks she’s a star, and when her fans crowd up to the edge of the stage, crazy, she welcomes them, with open arms. She revels in it. She revels in it. She’s too much of a girl for you? She revels in it.

I love Stevie Nicks. I love that the world tells us women are there for men, but despite all the boyfriends and the jokes about how she’s so easy and the sex-symbol status, she isn’t there for men at all. She’s there for us.


Also, the rest of the week’s posts are here:
http://oneweekoneband.tumblr.com/tag...e_nicks/chrono

I LOOOVE THIS!! Never read this one! Thank you.

[ricohv]

You're welcome! I really loved it, too. (And, sorry Johnny Stew if I sort of hijacked your thread). From the link at the very bottom of my last post there are several pages of interesting ponderings, wrote with clarity and insight, like these:

• Stevie Nicks - At Last
  This is the angriest version of this song I have ever heard. Not that the Etta James version, which has become an aural shorthand for the first bloom of lifelong love, is as tender as we collectively remember it, but even her version has a warm shiver down the spine, an incandescent bulbs in a dark park on a summer night softness. This version, if it were used in a movie, would play over a slow pan around an immaculate apartment in the process of being smashed to bits — dishes crashing to the hardwood floor, a vase of flowers shattering against a wall, shards of mirror half buried by white shag carpeting, drywall dust and the smoke of old photos burning in a silver trash can — always a step behind the person doing the destroying, until you round a corner and there is your stalker ex sitting on the bed with a knife, and you get murdered, and the movie is over. This is not a love song, when Stevie Nicks sings it. This is an ownership song.
  
  
• Stevie can emote, but only a limited number of emotions. Anger, fear, loneliness, longing, arrogance, dismissal, and whatever you call that feeling where you realize things are changing and you can’t stop them, and you resign to depend only on yourself, because yourself is the only thing you can control. Sometimes she can combine them, can alchemize so that they resemble love or tenderness, but they aren’t really — there’s always a barrenness to her voice, a sound like salting the earth. Nothing will grow here, not unless she lets it.
  You tell people you loved Stevie Nicks when you were sixteen, and they think of angels and dreams and dripping chiffon. Which is not necessarily wrong — all the doves and dragons and life-and-death were as real to me as anything else back then. But what really mattered to me was how flinty she was, how hard.
  
  
• So many of Stevie’s songs are about time — what was, what will be, and the ways things change, whether you want them to or not. And in so many of Stevie’s songs, she’s the thing that changes, or she’s the thing that needs to change — or she’s the thing that can’t change, and that’s the problem. She tells you in so many songs how she’s learning, she’s trying. To trust more, to need less, to change. And she tells herself all the time how she should: she dreamed she was a child, but she’s not a child anymore. And all the time how it isn’t working: she’s too intense, and changing is like dying, she’s always been a storm.
  "Storms" is the most vulnerable she’ll ever sound, but that feeling never goes away.
  

Ricoh

[He's So Unusual]

Originally Posted by ricohv

Stevie Nicks surrounds herself with girls. Wherever she goes, she brings girls. “I can’t imagine you in a bathing suit,” someone says in an interview for Rolling Stone, when Stevie says she likes to play in the pool in her backyard. “Yeah, well, you never will,” Stevie says. “And there is never — ever — a man in the backyard. If there is, he is banished to the front of the house.” Men don’t get to look at Stevie Nicks unless Stevie Nicks wants men to look at Stevie Nicks.

Not to lower the tone or anything but I bet she was a knockout in a bikini/bathing costume, she was certainly rocking a nice body back in the day. I guess I'll have to make do with the pictures of her dressed in those cute tops that showed off her flat, tanned stomach.

http://starling.rinet.ru/music/sleeves/zap_fmac.jpg

Damn!

[SpyNote]

One of the most helpful things that I learned from Stevie is to stay close to your ex's because you never know when you might need them later. Stevie's obviously very close to most of her special guys and they have helped out in different ways over the years, the most obvious being activists for her charitable causes. I don't think most people would be willing to keep those connections, if things didn't work out between them.

[ricohv]

Originally Posted by SpyNote

One of the most helpful things that I learned from Stevie is to stay close to your ex's because you never know when you might need them later. Stevie's obviously very close to most of her special guys and they have helped out in different ways over the years, the most obvious being activists for her charitable causes. I don't think most people would be willing to keep those connections, if things didn't work out between them.

Stevie definitely has a super-human ability to remain friends with exes. Maybe because of the practice she got being in FM with Mick and Linds. But really, for someone who at times has been so dysfunctional, to be able to do that is beyond my comprehension. Ricoh